


Why Do You Even Care?

by 1_MadHat_1



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: A little bit of smooching, Accidental Confession, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, and probably medical inaccuracies, i tried my best tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23403121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1_MadHat_1/pseuds/1_MadHat_1
Summary: Sweets and Hodgins become really good friends after the whole thing with Zack and Angela. But it's only when Hodgins gets hurt in one of his experiments that Sweets realizes his feelings aren't entirely platonic.
Relationships: Jack Hodgins/Lance Sweets
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	Why Do You Even Care?

Sweets was having a good day by all accounts. Booth and Brennan seemed to be avoiding a personal crisis during this case and were acting fairly normal. And on top of that, one of his “unreliable” psychological findings had panned out, leading them one step closer to finding the murderer. His day had been going good so Sweets didn’t quite understand how it became one of his worst so quickly and without warning. 

It started with a simple need, a confusing need sure but one that was easy enough to fulfill. He wanted to see Hodgins. Want wasn’t quite the right word though, it was less of a want and more of a need. It had hit him suddenly, he had been sitting at the Diner grabbing a quick bite to eat when he looked across the empty table and realized how badly he wanted to see the other man. 

These weird bouts of unexplainable and intense feelings had started when Hodgins barged into Sweets’ office in the middle of the night and told him that he hated everyone. The moment when Hodgins had started to actively seek out Sweets’ help and slowly work towards healing the gaping wounds that scarred his heart marked the beginning of their relationship.

At first it was Hodgins sporadically bursting into his office and immediately talking about whatever was on his mind before it morphed into Sweets managing to get him to make actual scheduled appointments. Unfortunately, this brilliant plan didn’t pan out the way he wanted in the slightest. Something about the professional environment caused Hodgins to immediately clam up the moment that the actual sessions began.

After a few extremely tense, useless attempts Sweets quickly changed tactics and asked if he wanted to hang out at Sweets’ place and be his second player in a video game that he recently purchased. Hodgins’ change was sudden and radical as he began to open up again and it wasn’t long after that Sweets realised that really all Hodgins needed was a friend to listen to his ramblings. It was from that moment that he started spending a lot of time with Hodgins.

A lot of time.

At some point along the way, it stopped being about the therapy and Sweets stopped being the psychologist and it morphed into just two good friends hanging out and honestly enjoying the others company. It was during this time that Sweets discovered how insanely hilarious Hodgins is and just generally likable, definitely the most likable person that Sweets had the pleasure of getting to know. They hung out almost everyday and he never got tired of it or wanted to be alone instead, he would cancel plans to make time for it without a second thought. 

It was because of this new found relationship that Sweets felt a mix of worry and confusion as soon as he laid eyes on Hodgins. The fact that the older man was standing in his office hunched over a microscope wasn’t what set Sweets off, in fact that was expected. No, it was the fact that Sweets could see multiple layers of white bandage peeking out from between his curls. And that his skin, in more than a few places, was turning a nauseating shade of blue and purple in between a worrying amount of untreated nicks and scabs. He looked like a small bomb had gone off near him.

“What happened?” Sweets kicked himself a little when he hears the small, but noticeable tremor in his voice as the worry for the older man made itself apparent. It turns out the worry was short lived when he heard Hodgins’ response,

“Experiment gone wrong. Explosion. The usual really, no biggy.” The profiler couldn’t help the feeling of frustration pull at his gut from having to find out about this so-called experiment accidentally. Sweets had thought that they had gotten closer, but apparently Hodgins didn’t agree or he would have at least called him after the accident. He wasn’t quite sure why that hurt as much as it did. 

“Are you okay?” Hodgins has the audacity to completely ignore his question in favor of continuing to focus his attention only on the sample under the microscope. Sweets never liked being ignored but with each second that ticked by without a single word of acknowledgment from the older man he felt disbelief build higher in his chest. And the more he looked at Hodgins the more he started to see.

The younger man has always been observant and he prided himself on how easily he would be able to tell when something was wrong in anyone he knew. But he had never been more in tune with someone than he was with Hodgins. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for Sweets to puzzle together that the other man had most likely sprained his left wrist considering he flinched every time he tried to adjust the microscope that he was so invested in. And based on how he was shielding his eyes from the light he was suffering from the kind of migraine that he usually got when he hadn’t slept or rested in a day or so. 

And god if that didn't make him _furious_.

In hindsight, Sweets realises that this fury has been building up for a long time because he was just so tired of Hodgins not caring about himself. He doesn’t get even close to enough sleep and Sweets has started bringing him food to make sure that he has actually eaten something that day. The scientist foregoes everything for his work and it is just so frustrating to watch someone you care so deeply for throw their life away and Sweets was tired of letting him get away with it.

It took everything that Sweets had to keep the utter contempt out of his voice when he managed to ask through clenched teeth, “When’s the last time you slept?” Now the profiler didn’t consider himself anything close to a hot head and it took quite a bit for him to express any anger he might have been feeling. But when he saw Hodgins’ shoulder go up and down in the unmistakable gesture of a shrug, he lost it. 

“When’s the last time you ate an actual meal or drank anything but alcohol?”

The sudden yelling succeeded in making Hodgins jump and finally, _finally_ turn to look at him for the first time since this conversation began. The shock at the situation was clear on the older man’s face and Sweets sees a hint of surprise in his eyes since this was the first time that he had seen the profiler mad much less this mad. But even the bright, blue eyes that usually calm Sweets wasn’t enough to quell the anger that was burning in his stomach.

“Did you go to the hospital or even _fucking_ sit down after you nearly died in one of your stupid experiments?” The more he talked the less control Sweets had over his volume and by the end of the sentence he was all but screaming at the top of his lungs. He felt a momentary pang of regret when he saw the unmistakable flash of pain scrunch Hodgins’ face when the yelling must have rattled his already pounding head. But the feeling was fleeting and it disappeared as soon as the older man’s face settled into one of seething anger. 

“I don’t need your pity Sweets, I can take care of my fucking self,” the curly haired man yelled back, the bitter and insulting tone evident in his voice. Sweets was just about to throw back his own comment when the sharp ringing of his phone cut him off and Hodgins’ computer screen started flashing with mass spec results. Neither one of them move for a moment, both just staring angrily into the others eyes as the world moves around them. Sweets is the one that breaks first, too annoyed to deal with the constant, high pitched sound for too long. 

While he goes to grab his phone he notices that they have drawn the attention of nearly everyone in the lab who were all gawking at the display. But honestly, Sweets couldn’t care less at the moment and proceeds to flip open his phone and answer the incoming call with a venomous, “What?”

“Woah,” although Sweets immediately recognizes the voice of Booth as it floods through the speaker, he is momentarily distracted by Hodgins reaming out their spectators. Booth continued unknowingly, “What’s going on Sweets? Is Hodgins okay?” The question threw Sweets for a loop but he managed a biting,

“Unfortunately,” with a sharp glare directed to curly haired menace who was talking to Cam about the evidence that was still flashing garishly on his screen.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you angry, what did you get-” Sweets dreads the incoming insult about his age and quickly decides to cut him off, saying,

“Well then you know that I’m not in the mood for any teasing comments that you might have, just tell me what you want.” The anger lingering in Sweets’ system made the request seem more biting and harsh than he was aiming for but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Alright calm down, I need you to check out some death threats that were sent to our victim and interview a suspect,” Booth’s voice had an edge of tense worry to it but Sweets didn’t have the patience to analyse the potential reasons for the tone at the moment so he chose to ignore it. The profiler gives a final,

“Fine,” before snapping his phone closed. And with one last heated glare at Hodgins that was returned vehemently, he turned on his heel and left. 

* * *

Sweets is still furious. He is still furious yet he found himself voluntarily walking into the lab a day after the whole shouting match. It was all because of stupid Booth not picking up his stupid phone to listen to the stupid important theory that he had developed after looking over the death threats. Since he couldn’t call the man, he had no other choice than to search him out and because he has horrible luck, the lab was closer.

So here he is.

With every step he takes he can feel the anger become more and more tangible around him. The thought of seeing Hodgins’ stupid face and stupid curls and stupid attractive smile only makes his frown deepen. The only way he manages to keep putting one foot in front of the other is the repeating thought of “ _find Booth and get out_ ” and, of course, knowing that he has information that could lead to the killer of a teenage girl. 

Sweets allows himself to reason that it’s so late at night that Hodgins probably isn’t even here anyway. Around this time he would be snuggled in his bed that has far too many pillows wearing only a pair of boxers and maybe one of the t-shirts that he claimed from Sweets. Thinking of Hodgins clad in Sweets’ stolen Avatar shirt manages to lessen his anger. But only a little. He would still rather drop dead then see the other man right now, no matter how he looks in Sweets’ clothes.

But any hope that Hodgins was at home instead of the lab vanished as soon as Sweets took his first step in the darkened room. His eyes were immediately drawn to the curly haired man that he had every intention of avoiding. But something about Hodgins was off. The usually active man was simply standing in the middle of the lab floor. Staring, unblinkingly at something unimportant in the distance, his eyes slightly unfocused.

Sweets tried to summon the anger that was fueling him just a few seconds ago, but he couldn’t muster even a slice of it. As soon as his eyes landed on Hodgins he felt something in his gut tighten and his heart skip a beat. And against everything he believed in a few minutes ago, he called out,

“Hodgins?” But the curly haired man just continued to stand in the dark, staring and motionless. That’s when Sweets started to get worried and he couldn’t stop himself from slowly approaching Hodgins hoping that he would suddenly turn around and say something Hodgins-like. But even when Sweets was in touching distance, the other man still didn’t show any sign that he had any idea that he was here. Sweets tried again a little louder, “Jack?” Hodgins seems to register his name this time around and Sweets watches as he blinks his way back to reality before turning toward Sweets and muttering out a hushed and adoring,

“Lance,” while flashing him a gorgeous smile. But Sweets didn’t even get the chance to be relieved before Hodgins’ stunning blue eyes rolled back into his head and his knees buckled. Sweets dove and managed to catch Hodgins before he slammed his already delicate head onto the hard concrete of the Jeffersonian. 

He quickly pulled the newly unconscious man into his lap and while he struggled to find Hodgins’ pulse he felt intense panic start to climb higher and higher into his throat. Tears started to prick his eyes as his mind imagined cruel scenarios that caused his heart to scream with grief. Nothing can describe the intense feeling of relief when Sweets managed to steady his hand long enough to feel the _thump, thump, thump_ of the thankfully still beating heart. His eyes drifted shut as he let out a shuddering breath in an unsuccessful attempt to expel some of the pent up panic that is still coursing through his veins. 

He isn’t quite sure how it happened but Sweets’ face somehow found it's way pressed into the crook of Hodgins’ neck and his arms wrapped around him. Although, he kept his hand pressed into the pulse point of the unconscious man’s wrist, finding comfort in the constant beat. Sweets stayed curled around Hodgins and it wasn’t until the older man shifted slightly that he pulled himself away and just in time to see Hodgins blinking his eyes open rapidly. The man’s eyes slowly shift back into focus as he drags his line of sight over to Sweets’. Hodgins’ face momentarily contorts into shock before shifting into anger and then settling on plain exhausted. 

“I’m still pissed at you, but I’m going to go to sleep for a couple hours...but don’t think...that I won...t kick...your ass...la-” was all he managed to get out before he went boneless in Sweets’ arms and started snoring. A small smile managed to worm it's way on to Sweets’ face while he watched Hodgins drift off during his threat. It was just so like the man. In his sleep, Hodgins snuggled further into Sweets’ chest while simultaneously pulling the hand that the younger man still had on his wrist into a gentle hold. The sight brought an unexplainable warmth to the profiler’s whole being and he finally felt his body relax and his heart rate slow.

The younger man spends a few minutes listening to the deep, sleep-paced breaths before deciding that he was definitely down for the count. Sweets manages to slowly untangle his fingers from Hodgins before placing his now free hand under his knees keeping the other between his shoulder blades. With a surprising show of gentle strength, the profiler lifts the limp man up with relative ease.

He stands unmoving for a moment, making sure that the sudden movement hadn’t woken the sleeping man from his deep slumber. But all Hodgins did was curl his good hand in Sweets’ shirt and press his face against the younger man’s neck. With his worry at bay for the moment, Sweets continues to carry Hodgins bridal style to the couch in Brennan’s office. 

Once Sweets reaches the piece of furniture, he gently lowers the limp man on the brown leather, more than careful not to jostle Hodgins’ head. He quickly rearranges the man so that he is in a more comfortable position with a pillow propped under his head and a blanket strewn over his shivering form. Giving him a second look, his eyes landed on Hodgins’ left wrist and since Sweets was still convinced that it was sprained he placed a pillow under it as well, just in case.

The longer he looked at Hodgins exhausted form the more Sweets came to realize he was spiraling. He couldn’t help the intense worry that has woven itself deep into Sweets’ bones during the ordeal. His mind felt more than fried from replaying the day's events on repeat over and over in his head. But Sweets didn’t quite understand why he was _this_ freaked out. Even when he had thought that Booth had died, his mind wasn’t as frazzled and fractured as it is right now. And that realization made absolutely no sense to Sweets since, by all accounts, Hodgins is fine, albeit banged up. But he wasn’t dead. He wasn’t even dying, just passed out because Hodgins didn’t ever rest. 

On top of all the other emotions Sweets was feeling he felt anger start to seep in again. The thoughts that he had earlier re-enters his mind all at once. The only thing that kept Sweets from physically assaulting the other man was the obvious fact he was already unconscious and injured. To help vent his intense frustrations he starts to pace around the office, allowing his mind to wander.

The younger man couldn’t stop thinking about how Hodgins is so amazing. He is extraordinarily intelligent, talented, and funny all rolled into one handsome face and lithe body. Yet he chooses to continuously throw away all of that by refusing to take proper care of himself. It makes absolutely no sense to Sweets. Someone as unique as Hodgins should be happy and healthy because Sweets couldn’t name anyone else who deserves it more.

A small movement in the corner of his eyes abruptly stops his pacing and causes worry to bubble up in his throat again. He quickly shuffled over to the other man, quietly dragging a chair beside him. The younger man sets the chair next to the couch before gently sitting and looking at Hodgins expectantly. Under Sweets watchful gaze the scientist only moves enough to settle further into the pillow.

During his shifting his good hand manages to slip off of the couch and dangle over the side. Sweets spends a few minutes just looking at the hand, expecting Hodgins to return it back to his side. Once it becomes obvious that he isn’t moving again Sweets slowly reaches out a hand of his own and places Hodgins’ back in its proper place. Somewhere in the process the psychologist simply “forgot” to let go. Deciding to find comfort in the warm, calloused hand, he continues to grip it tightly in his own.

When Sweets briefly rakes his eyes over Hodgins’ unconscious body he can’t help but highlight the various injuries that litter his skin. The bags under his eyes have darkened too many shades since Sweets last saw him like he hadn’t slept in days. The exposed skin underneath the older man’s rubber band was red and irritated with the beginning signs of bruising, proof that he had been beyond pissed. On top of it all his lips were chapped from dehydration and his skin was sickly pale color almost as if it was so tired it couldn’t be bothered to make Hodgins look alive. 

The more he notices the more he starts to panic again. But the heat that Sweets feels in the other man’s palm and the light snoring filing the room helped to ground him. Helped to convince himself that Hodgins was okay and alive and everything is going to be fine once he wakes up. Then the feeling of dread that was thudding in his chest and the prickling of tears in his eyes threatening to spill over would go away and everything would be fine. He just needed Hodgins to be okay again.

Sweets spends a little more time listening to Hodgins breathe steadily before gently squeezing his hand and letting it go. He was itching for something to do, something to occupy his mind at least for a little while. The younger man decides to go grab a few things to make Hodgins more comfortable since that’s all he could think about anyway. He ventures out into the dark lab thankful that he knew where nearly everything was because he has been spending so much time with Hodgins lately.

Storming through the building he grabs an assortment of food, water, ibuprofen, blankets, and a wrist brace from varying rooms and locations. At the last second he remembers the sweatshirt that Sweets had recommended that Hodgins should stash in his office for when he is having a particularly hard day. He slips it out of its hiding place expecting to feel the soft fabric in between his fingers that he knows that the scientist loves so much. Instead he is surprised to find one of his own sweatshirts, one that he had been missing for awhile. Seeing the worn piece of clothing makes a warm feeling twist in his stomach, one that he can’t quite place. He doesn’t let himself dwell for too long and throws it over his shoulder turning on his heel.

With his haul he goes back into Brennan’s office a tad disappointed but not surprised to see Hodgins still laying unmoving on the couch. He quickly goes to work piling blankets and the sweatshirt gently around his form to fully cocoon him in warmth well also placing the food, water, and medicine on the coffee table. He does a once over his work, delighted to find that Hodgins had subconsciously burrowed himself deeper into blankets letting out a soft sigh of content. 

Just as Sweets is about to sit back down in the chair that he had set up, the sharp ringing of his phone fills the previously silent room. Sweets jumps at the sudden noise and fumbles to answer the call before the offending sound wakes Hodgins. It feels like centuries before he has the phone open and pressed against his ear, thankful to see that Hodgins had managed to stay asleep during the ordeal. Sweets moves to the other side of the room trying to preserve the quiet as much as possible without having to actually leave. Turning back to the call, he quickly recognizes the voice of Booth over his crappy phone speaker when he begins to talk,

“Hey, I got your message about Simmons being the murderer and we just placed him under arrest.” Sweets feels shame start to weigh on his shoulders when he realizes that he completely forgot about the case. He couldn’t believe that he had let it completely slip his mind even with the heart stopping worry that he had for Hodgins. It was no excuse. “We already found the murder weapon in a vent and get this, the guy had a room caked in stalker pictures of our victim.” A shiver or disgust crawled up Sweets spine of the mental picture that generated in his mind. “Caroline has already assured me that this sicko is going to prison for a long ass time thanks to your insight on those threats. Go home and get some rest, you’ve earned it.” 

He didn’t really feel like he had considering he completely forgot about the whole case and he definitely didn’t feel like he was getting any rest tonight. Even with those thoughts bouncing in his head he whispered a quick thanks in response. Booth, of course, notices and immediately questions it, “Why are you whispering?” Sweets doesn’t even consider lying to the older agent but if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t really have the energy to explain this whole situation. So with an instinctive look at Hodgins' sleeping face, he settles on a simple,

“Hodgins is sleeping,” which he figures is good enough for now. There’s a pause where Sweets is sure that Booth is debating whether he wants to push for more information but he must have heard the exhaustion in Sweets voice so he mutters,

“Good, he needs it.” Before abruptly ending the phone call and leaving Sweets in the silence once again. As he quietly strolls back over to Hodgins he slips his phone back into the proper pocket, making sure to place it on silent this time. Before resuming his place next to the scientist’s bedside he takes a second to get comfortable, slipping off his shoes, suit jacket, and tie, feeling better by the second. Once he is as settled as he can be in Brennan’s arm chair he cautiously takes Hodgins’ hand in his again. While looking at their interlocked hands, Sweets find himself painfully aware of the fact that there was nothing else for him to do. Hodgins was comfortable, everything was ready for when he woke up, and the case had been solved. So all Sweets could do was wait. Wait until the older man’s stunning blue eyes flickered open from what was essentially his hibernation. 

Now that Sweets emotions had finally seemed to settle and the situation didn’t seem as urgent and dangerous he felt _tired_. A familiar feeling of exhaustion weighed on his body and pulled down on his eyelids. He slipped down a little in his chair, choosing to prop his feet up onto the couch next to Hodgins’ heavily blanketed legs. But even as he hovers between awake and sleeping he can’t keep his mind off of the other man. He feels a distinct memory begin to float to the surface of his thoughts, by far his favorite with Hodgins.

It was after work sometime last week that Hodgins had come over to Sweets house like he did almost every night now. They had been watching some random show that Wendell had adamantly suggested, although neither one of them had been paying any attention at all. Sweets was a lot more focused on how Hodgins’ body had been pressed tight against his side, his head lying on the psychologist’s shoulder. The heat that is radiating from Hodgins’ hand was a fraction of the warmth that Sweets remembers from that night, the memory made him long for more contact with the other than just his hand. 

The other jarring difference between now and the memory was how silent Hodgins is. A soft smile curls Sweets’ lips when he remembers that the scientist had been going on and on about a kind of spider that he can’t recall the name of. The near textbook definitions and facts had been spurred on by Sweets stumbling on one in the bathroom earlier that day. The scream that had tumbled out of his mouth had sent Hodgins running to see what happened and when he saw the small arachnid the lecture began. But the younger man didn’t mind at all, he enjoyed hearing how passionate the other got when talking even if it was about something that he wasn’t a fan of. 

But most of all, Sweets remembers a very distinct feeling flooding his whole body that night. Something about the whole situation hit the psychologist as extremely domestic and that made the feeling that much more noticeable. But for the life of him he couldn’t place what the feeling was or what it meant. He knew it was something big and important and probably oh so obvious but he just couldn’t put his finger on it. Before he is able to successfully place that feeling he feels consciousness slip away and the heavy weight of sleep take over. 

* * *

It’s impossible to know how long Sweets has been asleep for, when he suddenly hears a very distinct voice ring through his groggy mind. It manages to pull him out of his, thankfully, dreamless sleep and back into the present moment. Unfortunately, the words that he barely manages to register aren’t what Sweets would consider a pleasant way to wake up. 

“Oh you have got to be kidding me.”

It takes a second for Sweets to manage to open his eyes fully, while he is still trying to blink away the blurriness he hears rustling and shuffling coming from the couch. He slides his gaze towards the source of the commotion before brown eyes meet familiar blue ones that seem to be dulled with fury. Suddenly, he feels a lot more awake than he was a second before, the sound of a snapping rubber band succeeds in bringing him more in focus. His slow mind manages to pick up speed as he starts to register the environment around him. 

The blanket nest that he had meticulously tucked in around the previously sleeping man had been carelessly tossed around, the majority of it on the floor rather than the couch. Sitting in the middle of the destruction was a seemingly furious Hodgins with bleary, but very awake eyes. Sweets couldn’t really get himself to be at all intimidated by the angry man because he looked almost adorable. His hair had been severely compromised during the night ending up as a messy crown of blonde curls atop his head while the rest of his appearance appeared sleep rumpled. He had the appearance of a child that had woken up to find out that his favorite toy had gone missing or something.

But with the way that the light was streaming through the windows Hodgins looked less adorable and more handsome. The golden light softened his chiseled features and seemed to make his skin glimmer. Sweets’ breath was almost taken away by the sheer beauty of the man in front of him and he would have loved to gaze upon him for the rest of his life. Unfortunately Hodgins was evidently done waiting for Sweets’ brain to come back online and started to continue his earlier statement,

“Why are you here, Sweets? I told you that―wait, how did I get here?” Sweets watched as Hodgins completely interrupted himself once he fully realized where he is isn’t not where he remembered being. The younger man is so caught up in the intense relief he feels seeing Hodgins act so normally that he can’t help the chuckle that worms it's way past his lips. He disregards the flash of anger on Hodgins face at the sound and decides to stretch out his aching muscles and spine. While he rubs the crust out of his eyes and runs fingers through his bed head he thinks he spots Hodgins staring at him with a little color in the apple of his cheeks. Once he feels more like an actual functioning human being he answers in his confident voice that he usually reserves for his therapy sessions,

“You passed out last night, probably because you don’t take proper care of your body. After you regained consciousness you almost immediately fell asleep so I carried you in here to rest.” He tried his best to keep any and all emotion out of his voice but he knew immediately that he wasn’t completely successful. Anger had started to poison his words in spite of how much he tried to hide it and that wasn’t lost on Hodgins. The silence lasts a few seconds at most, it hits Sweets that this is essentially the calm before the storm just as Hodgins starts up again.

“Well why the food and water? Why the,” Hodgins uncrosses his legs to roughly grab the bottle that sat innocently on top of the table quickly reading the label, “Ibuprofen? And most importantly, why the hell are _you_ still here?” The psychologist can barely handle how absolutely idiotic and dramatic Hodgins is being over this whole situation. The answer is obvious enough that his tone takes sharp tone when he responds, 

“Because I know that you haven’t been bothered to eat or drink anything for at least 48 hours, maybe more. And how am I supposed to just leave you alone when you are clearly concussed and obviously neglecting the very basic needs to survive.” The little confidence that Sweets would be able to keep his cool during this conversation quickly went out the window. The fear, worry, and anxiety that he had been feeling the previous night returned as fury that now bubbled under his skin, itching to be released. It was clear that Hodgins wasn’t far behind him,

“How I take care of myself doesn’t fucking concern you, Sweets.” As soon as that absolute bullshit sentence processed in his mind Sweets was up on his feet, pointing an accusing finger at the other man.

“When your body literally shuts down right in _front of me_ , you better believe that it becomes my business.” It doesn’t take long before Hodgins is attempting to stand up from his destroyed nest, his legs giving out on him slightly before being strong enough to take on his whole weight. Once the room stopped spinning around the older man he’s in front of Sweets, shoving his pointing finger aside in order to press into Sweets’ space and into his face. He is close enough that the younger man can feel the air from every harsh breath that Hodgins sucks into his lungs and he can see the intense, blue eyes in hyperfocus. But Sweets can’t help but feel a flash of victory when he notices that the seemingly permanent bags that accompany the eyes have become noticeably lighter.

“I don’t need you to take care of me, Sweets. I don’t need anyone, much less my god damn _shrink_ of all people.” The blatant refusal to call Sweets a friend felt like the shorter man had shoved an ice pick into his abdomen and twisted it mercilessly. He didn’t let the hurt show on his face, though, and instead allowed it to spin itself into more anger, adding to the ever growing pile in his chest. 

“I am more than just your shrink, Hodgins, I am your very worried friend that you have officially pissed. Off.” Sweets slowly backs away from the other man in favor of quickly pacing the office instead hands gesturing wildly as he continued,

“Don’t even get me started on your stupid, dangerous, and unnecessary experiment which nearly _killed_ you. Even though you were lucky and managed to not die you still are covered in injuries, and don’t think for a second that I didn’t notice that you also sprained or maybe even broke your wrist. And you’re trying to hide it because what? Your co-workers and friends would make you go to the hospital and then you can’t work, is that it?” A brief look over at Hodgins gave him his answer, it had been mostly rhetorical anyway. 

“I swear to god, Jack, you think that just because Angela broke up with you and Zack is in the psych ward that _no one_ cares about your well being. That your brain is the only thing that anyone actually needs you for so you end up pushing yourself way too hard.” Sweets suddenly stopped rapidly pacing and turned to look at Hodgins again. “And just look where it gets you, passed out and laying on Dr. Brennan’s couch because your body physically cannot support you anymore.” 

Silence filled the office space, the only sound was Sweets trying to get his breath back from the long rant he had gotten a little caught up in. Getting all of that pent up anger off his chest felt cathartic almost it became clear that his filter had long since turned off since. He didn’t even know he felt this strongly until the tap had been turned on. The psychologist couldn’t read the expression on the other man, although he didn’t look nearly as furious as he had earlier. He still looked angry but it was almost as if a hint of vulnerability had snuck it's way into the complex expression. The silence ticked by before Hodgins yelled,

“Why do you even care?” And without thinking Sweets responded,

“Because I love you, that’s why. That is why you are going to drink that fucking water and eat that fucking granola bar and be happy about it god dammit because I...love...you, oh.” It suddenly caught up to him what he was saying and everything seemed to fall into place. 

Every emotion that he had been confused or conflicted about in the past came into sharp focus and he couldn’t believe how long it had taken him to figure it out. And along with the giddiness of the revelation the full weight of the whole situation came crashing down around him. The anger crumbled and instead he felt panic take hold of his heart while his vision blurred with the tears that have been threatening to fall since last night. 

“What if you got seriously injured in the explosion or I hadn’t been there to catch you when you passed out and you just smashed your head on the ground? And I was worried and no one told me anything and I-I just can’t, I mean what would I do I-I-I with―” Before he manages to spiral completely he feels a gentle hand wrap around his waist and another on the nape of his neck pulling him into Hodgins' shoulder. Sweets couldn’t resist melting into the tight hug, lifting his hands to clutch at the back of the older man’s shirt, stretching the fabric to its limits while sobbing earnestly into Hodgins' neck. The embrace was warm and grounding and within a few minutes he was able to sober up enough to untangle his fingers and step back.

As soon as he does there is a pair of chapped, warm lips pressing against his own. 

Once he is fully aware of what’s happening again his eyes slip shut and he immediately starts kissing back. Sweets quickly plunges his fingers into the plentiful curls that he had been admiring earlier, reveling in the feeling but being careful to avoid the bandages still wrapped around his head. Hodgins makes sure the kiss stays mostly chaste, letting their lips move almost leisurely against one another, their bodies pressed as close together as possible. 

When they eventually have to break apart for air pressing their foreheads together instead, Sweets keeps his eyes closed feeling much more grounded and less like he was on the verge of a panic attack. Sweets takes the hands out of the other man’s hair and instead pulls one of Hodgins’ off his waist in favor of intertwining them together. He allows himself to float in the calming emotions that he is currently feeling before sliding his eyes back open. 

Sweets is greeted with Hodgins’ absolutely gorgeous face alight with a wide, bright smile and his blue eyes wide with something close to giddiness. The scientist takes the hand remaining on Sweets hip and instead places it on Sweets’ face gently, wiping away the tear tracks that were left on his face. When he spoke it was in the softest and calming tone that Sweets has ever heard come out of the usually abrasive man,

“I love you too and I’m sorry that I am so incredibly inept. I will happily drink the water and eat that granola bar and I’ll start taking better care of myself because the last thing that I wanted to do was hurt you.” The look in his eyes is so sincere and intense that Sweets can’t help but close the short distance between them. 

Their second kiss is nothing like the first, Sweets dominates it making it deep and dirty by licking into Hodgins mouth and sucking and biting on his bottom lip. The sounds that are slipping out of the other man are simultaneously the cutest and hottest he has ever heard before he knows it his hands are back in his hair and the sounds only seem to get louder. He wants Hodgins to feel the full extent of his feelings but also because he has wanted to do this for such a long time and he hadn’t even known it. Just as Sweets does something tricky with his tongue Hodgins suddenly pulls away with a rough laugh. He, thankfully, doesn’t give Sweets anytime to panic before he is speaking,

“Easy tiger, you’re _really_ good at kissing and it’s making me a little dizzy because of the stupid concussion.” When he gestures briefly to his head he suddenly sharply inhales and makes a pained face, “And that I sprained my wrist. Nice catch by the way, I was trying so hard to hide it but you already explained how stupid that was.” The reintroduction of Hodgins’ injuries manages to lift the fog of lust that had clouded the psychologist's mind. He honestly doesn’t know how he forgot since they have been arguing about this for at least 2 intense days now. In complete sincerity he responds,

“Oh no, I’m so sorry. You should be sleeping not fucking me, god what am I thinking?” At the accidental suggestion Hodgins makes a loud groaning sound and pulls Sweets into a fierce kiss.

“Jesus, you can’t just say that, babe, I’m only one man.” A laugh tumbles from Sweets lips while he throws out a quick apology that he doesn’t fully mean. He walks over to the coffee table and grabs the granola bar and bottled water off of the surface before turning on his heels and pressing it into the other man’s hands. 

“Finish those while I get the bed that you absolutely destroyed set back up for us.” Another groan fell from Hodgins’ mouth although Sweets was satisfied that the sound was slightly muffled with food. “For _sleeping_ Jack, you can do whatever you want to me when you have a clean bill of health.” 

A comfortable and familiar silence fills the room as they both focus on their given tasks. It doesn’t take long for the bed to be salvaged and when Sweets turns back around he is pleased to see an empty wrapper and a mostly empty water bottle. What he didn’t expect was that Hodgins had found the sweatshirt Sweets had collected earlier and he had quickly snuggled up in it. He looked absolutely adorable in the slightly bigger attire and the cheeky grin that adorned Hodgins’ face made the look that much more heart melting. 

They didn’t waste any more time before laying on the makeshift bed and curling into one another. They had just gotten settled when Hodgins suddenly yelped, loud and startling before sitting up and cradling his wrist. Sweets immediately followed him up, placing a hand on his back, his touch light as a feather. He wasn’t able to keep the panic out of his voice when he asked,

“Wh-what happened? Are you okay, darling?” Looking over his shoulder, Hodgins gave a look that can only be described as loving before sinking back into Sweets arms, head pressing against his collarbone. 

“Yeah, yeah, my wrist just got stuck in a not so good position. Just give it a second to stop radiating pain and we’ll be back in action.” Sweets started rubbing his back in a soothing pattern while the older man took continuous calming breaths before nodding to signal that the pain had passed. Leaning over the curly haired man, careful to not disrupt his wrist again, Sweets grabbed the brace from off the coffee table and secured it gently around his wrist. 

“Hopefully that’ll help keep it steady for you until we can get Brennan to check it out,” the younger man stated with a stern look that was softened severely by the light kiss he placed on the swaddled appendage. Hodgins pulled him into a chaste kiss as a loving thank you before tugging him back into the warm embrace of the blankets and pillows.

After some more careful maneuvering, Sweets ended up on his back with Hodgins face pressed against his neck and an arm thrown over his body. Their legs mingled together as their heartbeats and breathing synced up with one another's. It only took a few seconds before Hodgins breathing evens out and Sweets decides that he already looks so much healthier than he did yesterday and that makes a familiar feeling bubble in the young man’s chest. The feeling that he now knows is absolute, undying love. 


End file.
